A Taste of One's Own Medicine
by Abarero
Summary: For some reason, America really didn't want England to see him that day. But that doesn't stop England from coming over to see what the problem is. UK/US.


**A Taste of One's Own Medicine**

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England was used to getting strange phone calls from America. In actuality, he was more shocked by _normal_ phone calls from the other country. But in terms of odd calls, today's was near the top of the weird list.

It had been short, sweet and very blunt. "England, whatever you do. Don't come over. I'm...not here."

He'd tried to argue that America had to be there if he was calling from there, but the other country wouldn't relent. For some reason, America _really_ didn't want England to see him that day.

Confused and concerned, he called up the one country he knew might be able to give him a straight answer about the situation. And after Canada had clarified that it wasn't something England had done wrong, but rather that America was embarrassed about something stupid he'd done, the older country decided that perhaps a visit might be a good idea after all.

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On arriving, he was greeted by a blanket draped over the morose shape of America.

"I told you not to come," a muffled voice grumbled from beneath the stars and stripes cloth.

"Which means you might as well have _asked_ me to come. I..." England shuffled his feet. "Iwasworried," he rushed out.

The blanket figure reluctantly allowed him in, then retreated to a sulky position on the couch. England rolled his eyes. Sometimes America could act just like he was a little fledgling country again even though he was hundreds of years older than that.

"It can't be that bad."

America glared at him from beneath his blanket and England glared right back.

"You're a right fool if you think this is the stupidest thing I've seen you at."

"B-but I look ridiculous," America whined.

"Not much more than usual, I'd suppose. Come on, off with your cloak. I won't laugh."

The room fell silent before a very timid whisper asked, "Promise?"

England rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache building that only America's antics could bring on. "I promise."

Slowly the cloth slid away and England had to lightly bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting out in laughter. When Canada had told him America had a bad sunburn, that was putting this mildly.

The younger country wasn't wearing anything, not even his glasses, but his tacky flag boxers, most likely because any sort of clothing probably hurt against his scarlet skin. And if the fact he was as red as the stripes on his boxers wasn't humorous enough, the parts of skin left unburnt made it even worse. Obviously when America had decided to go out into the sun he was wearing only three things- swim trunks, sandals and sunglasses, because the outline of all those three were left in white on his reddened skin.

"Go ahead and laugh. It's horrible," America mumbled dejectedly. Blue puppy-dog eyes peered up at England from the white mask of once-sunglasses.

England cleared his throat and pushed down his urge to laugh. As much as America probably deserved to be laughed at for being enough of an idiot to go out into the sun without any protection, he'd promised he wouldn't.

He crossed the space between them and pressed the palm of his hand against America's forehead, jerking it back almost immediately.

"Bloody hell, your skin must be burning up." America winced and looked downright pathetic as England pushed back his bangs. Sighing, the older country pecked a quick kiss on his scarlet forehead and said, "Let's get you fixed up, idiot. I'll take care of you."

"But England, I already tried the lotions and the gels and all that stuff. It just makes me sticky."

England frowned, pondering other alternatives for sunburn cures. Finally, he vaguely recalled a folk herbal remedy that just might do the trick. Getting America to agree to it on the other hand...

"America, you're just going to have to go along with me on this."

"What?" He asked warily.

"Just tell me you'll agree to it. It won't hurt and it'll definitely help that bad burn of yours."

He squinted at England, trying to tell if the other country was messing with him or not. But he looked like he genuinely wanted to help, so America meekly nodded his head.

"Fine. But it better not be too stupid."

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"England, this is the dumbest cure ever!" America lamented looking down at the bathtub.

Sighing, England gently nudged America towards the tub. "It works, okay? This is not me winding you up."

"And why the hell was there _tea_ in my house anyways? I swore I threw it all out."

England averted his eyes, deciding that now was not the time to mention he'd horded some tea away in America's upper cabinets in the kitchen for when he visited. "That's besides the point!" He chastised. "A tea bath is one of the best ways to cure a sunburn! If you'd rather be peeling off _sheets_ of skin, keep up with your store bought creams!"

Skeptically, America looked at the four tea bags strung over the facet and stuck a finger into the brown tinged water. After a moment, he stuck his arm further into the water and then glanced up to England.

"...Hey, this does kind of work."

England huffed and threw his arms up in the air. "See? Now get in the bath before the tea thins out and we have to brew up more."

America peeled his boxers off as England pointedly looked the other way with a blush. If he hadn't been wincing at the fabric sliding off his burnt legs, America would have taunted the other country about being so shy even though they were sleeping together.

Stepping into the tea bath, America couldn't help but sigh in relief at the feeling of the cool tea water on his sunburn. As he eased down into the bath, he tossed his boxers at the back of England's head.

"I'm in the water now, you prude."

Tentatively, England turned around to see America lounging in the tub. The white skin around America's eyes merely accentuated the content look settling onto his features. England allowed himself a small smile.

"I'll uh..." He looked around and snatched up a wash cloth. "I'll get your neck and face."

Leaning over the edge of the bath, England couldn't help but follow the curve of America's legs and the shadows of...other things in the light brown water. He flushed bright red and pulled back his hand with the damp washcloth from the tub.

America laughed. "Hey England..."

"W-what?" He stammered.

"Come 'ere."

England edged toward where America's head leaned back against the tile walls, his eyes so pointedly fixed on America's face that he didn't notice the arm reaching out of the water.

It wasn't until he felt the wet hand on his wrist that England realized just what America's sudden mischievous grin was about.

"Damnit America!" He cursed as he was yanked, clothes and all, into the bathtub. America just laughed. "What the hell is your problem?!"

"Well, you were looking a bit red there...so, I figured I'd share my sunburn cure bath with you."

England flushed a brighter red and tried to struggle away. "America...damnit...let me..."

America reached up a hand behind his head and pulled him in for a kiss; England stopped struggling immediately and splashed the rest of the way into the tub.

"Idiot..." He rasped as they pulled apart, leaning his forehead lightly against America's forehead. America grinned.

"You know, I think this lame tea bath would be a lot better if you weren't being so weird and wearing clothes in the bathtub, England."

England glared at the wall. "I thought you weren't feeling well."

A damp hand slid under England's jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. "I got cured somewhat. Real silly thing, taking a bath in tea."

England spared a fleeting thought for his stained clothes and sighed as America started yanking off his tie. "You could say thank you, you know."

Tossing the soaking wet jacket and tie on the bathroom floor, America kissed England again, unbuttoning his shirt as he did so. "I am saying thank you, England. Do you think I'd share this not-awesome tea bath with anyone else?"

England huffed, prodded America's still red chest, and got the expected "Ouch!" in reply. Pulling off his own shirt, England gently shoved America back against the tub and leaned in. "You go easy on yourself. As I told you before," he pressed a kiss to the corner of the younger country's mouth, "I'll take care of you, America."

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End file.
